


You Arrogant Arse.

by Liberteaaxx



Series: 221B belongs in me. [2]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Baker Street, Bisexual John, Bisexual Sherlock, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy, Happy John, Happy Sherlock, I want to live in Baker Street, Jealous John, Jealous Sherlock, John is a Bit Not Good, Kinda, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Sad Sherlock, When will mark re-write TLP, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:57:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberteaaxx/pseuds/Liberteaaxx
Summary: It's been a month since Sherlock's break down, a month since John left Mary at the alter and a month since nothing changed.





	

It was one month post-wedding drama, things had partially gone back to normal since. Mary had somehow managed to forgive John quite quickly, considering he fled from their wedding at the alter to tell his best friend he loved him. John was currently sitting at the desk in Baker Street, the newspaper spread out as he read about his and Sherlock's latest discovery.

It was always strange reading about himself in the nation wide paper, however, it was interesting.

_As ever, Sherlock Holmes has solved the mystery!_

_Only four hours after Scotland Yard had notified him of the strange disappearances that had been occurring over the streets of London, he was able to figure out exactly who was behind it, where the people were being held and have the criminal arrested. How does he do it? Who knows!_

_As ever, at his side was Doctor John Watson, the iconic duo once again stood side by side as they watched the criminals driving away in the back of a police car. (Pictured below)_

_In other exciting news! It has been confirmed that the wedding of John Watson and Mary Morstan was officially called off only minutes before they were supposed to say 'I do'. We spoke to a witness who attended the wedding, who said "No one was surprised, in fact, half of us were placing bets on when he'd realise he was making the wrong decision. I think we all know why he left and who he returned to"_

_Could this be the confirmation of the affair between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson? Or is this another civilian simply hoping for the romance to be true? We'll never know!_

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned the page, he didn't want to read about it, especially considering it was most likely Lestrade or Molly who had spoken to the paper - they would be more than happy to tell the world.

The only problem was, since their declarations, since they finally admitted how they felt, they hadn't discussed it since. Sherlock had gone straight back into detective mode the day after, as if the whole episode never happened.

Of course, John should have expected it, Sherlock was very able to build a wall around himself to protect not only himself but his feelings. But, even so, John couldn't help but hurt. He knew that doing this would be difficult, he knew the man he loved and knew how hard it would be for him to simply move into a relationship. But after a month, he hoped that maybe they would have made some progress - and, well, watching him flurry around the flat like an absolute god, didn't help.

He found himself staring at Sherlock's bare chest more times than none, he would sit on the sofa and watch as Sherlock would waltz in rattling on about a case Lestrade had for them and he could never focus, instead his eyes were always glancing at the way his dressing gown would swing behind him as he paced back and forth and he would be faced with his gorgeous, toned body.

Since moving back in a month ago, he noted how his glances would no longer attempt to be subtle, he would just sit there, staring blankly - Sherlock never mentioned it, of course, although John had caught Sherlock glancing at him every now and again when he had been staring for a minute too long.

He could hear Sherlock rummaging around in his room, his steps banging against the floor - John exhaled a deep breath as the door to his bed room swung open and he was readying himself for the inevitable awkward situation.

"Lestrade has text, its a case" Sherlock announced, walking into the living room with a spring in his step.

John turned, watching as Sherlock paced back and forth with excitement, his navy shirt open as his long fingers attempted the buttons.

"Oh?" John said, gulping as he turned back to the paper.

"A Thirty something man, suspected of murdering several professionals around London all of which work for Banks, NatWest to be more precise. Very exciting"

"A man who murders bankers?" John cocked an eyebrow "not your usual idea of exciting"

"No, but it's a case" Sherlock retorted, grabbing his coat from the side of John's chair. "Come along, John"

"Do I have to?" John whined, leaning his head back against his cheer to peer back at him.

"Yes, actually, you do" Sherlock returned firmly and heading towards the door. "Come along"

John rolled his eyes, groaning as he stood up, ignoring the ache in his ever growing old knees, he definitely was getting too old for this. He turned round to face Sherlock, who threw his jacket and him and ran off down the stairs. "Yeah, thanks" He muttered, dragging himself to follow as he shoved his coat on.

They arrived at the scene, the first floor of London's biggest NatWest bank - the whole floor cut off with police tape and wire, John stood beside Sherlock as they looked at the victim.

A bullet, straight through his head, an easy way to go, John thought - painless.

Sherlock closed his eyes for a second, his fear of blood evident, as much as he attempted to hide it, John always noticed "right, shall we?".

He lifted the police tape for John, waiting until he had walked in before following. John head straight to the body, assessing the lifeless soul in front of him, it was routine now. John would assess time of death, cause and how it would have killed them and Sherlock would figure the finer details, the ones that would solve it.

"Ah, bullet wound straight through the skull, rapture in the brain, instant death - around, two hours ago? No, an hour and forty five minutes ago. The bullet would have been shot from..." he trailed off, turning around to look at the room "Behind the window at the back fire exit door, there's shattered glass on the floor - someone with a skilled hand, obviously"

"Fantastic, John" Sherlock complimented, when John looked up at him to accept it with a smile he noted how his eyes wouldn't focus on his own. He simply turned to Lestrade "How many did you say?"

"Three in a week, all shot, instant kill" Greg shouted over, unbothered by the glances by the staff members around him.

"All NatWest employees? The man in question? What's his name?"

Lestrade began walking over to them, not wanting to make it public record "Gavin Butcher, he's thirty five and lives in Westminster. Recently divorced, also very recently bankrupt - wife ran off with the kids and the entire contents of his bank account"

"Then why on earth are we here?" Sherlock spat, not quite the questioning tone it should have been.

"What?" Both Lestrade and John asked, both equally as confused as the other - Lestrade's confusion only irritated him, John however, _adorable_.

"Must I do all the work? Am I the only one with a functioning brain?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, walking past the two men and out of the scene "it's simple. This man had applied for a short term loan from his banking society, they declined him due to his recent bankruptcy. He applied multiple times, different branches with different members of the loan team. The once rich man has to struggle with the modern families money difficulties, plus losing his family, he was losing his mind - therefor, after spending an incredible amount of time watching documentaries on revenge killing, he seeked out his revenge - of which, the few men that have lost their lives in the past week"

"and that's it?" Lestrade asked, his face laced with utter confusion - you'd think after all these years he would be used to this by now.

"I'm afraid so" Sherlock bitterly smiled, leaving John and Greg to just watch as he waltzed out of the building like he had won the jackpot. 

"He's such an arse" Greg muttered, turning to John. "So, how are things?" 

John frowned "By things, you mean?".

"I mean, come on John, don't make me say it so bluntly. I mean, after the whole leaving your wedding before you even got married sort of thing"

"Ah, thought as much" John nodded "things are fine actually, more than fine. I'm very content at the moment" 

"And Mary? How is she? Have you spoken?" 

"Yes, she phoned yesterday. She is currently in Cape Verde, enjoying our honeymoon" 

"So, she's not... you know, upset?" 

"Probably. However, she's not showing it too much, in fact she encouraged me to leave that day" John admitted, stepping under the police line as he attempted to follow Sherlock. 

"And what about, Sherlock?" Greg asked.

"What about him? As you can see, he's fine, he's the exact same person he was before" John said and it was true, he hadn't changed, even after all what was said - he was _him_. 

He nodded a short goodbye, his hurried steps taking him out to the front of the building where Sherlock was stood quietly, his phone in hand as he typed away viciously. 

"Ready?" John asked, stepping beside him "I'm starved, shall we order in tonight?" 

"Italian. Not Thai, it's boring" Sherlock simply said, walking ahead, knowing that John would follow in his steps. 

"But you love Thai" John frowned. 

"Yes, and you love Italian" Sherlock retorted "Are we just naming food we love? Because, if so, you also love KFC but you know it's full of fat, grease and oil so stray away from it" 

"Yes, alright Sherlock I get it" John rolled his eyes "Italian it is" 

Sherlock nodded, finally putting his phone into his pocket as he hailed for a taxi, his arm waving in the air in front of the black cab approaching them. 

"I don't love KFC" John mumbled as Sherlock stepped inside the taxi. 

John found himself sitting in his assigned seat, his food on his lap, not bothering to sit at the dining table - mostly because Sherlock had been doing some sort of experiment involving pigs blood and testicals and he didn't fancy excess blood scattering over his Calzone.

However, Sherlock didn't care, he sat there, eating his Linguine with one hand as his other worked on the test tubes he had lined up.  

"Lestrade text" John said, glancing at his phone on the arm rest of his chair "They arrested him around an hour ago - he admitted to everything immediately before they could even arrest him" 

"Not surprising - all murderers enjoy telling others of their 'victims' and their death, it's a malicious joy for them" 

"Even so, it's rather psychotic" John shrugged, taking another fork full of his food. 

They stayed silent from then on until they had finished their food, Sherlock had joined John in the sitting room, sitting opposite him, however not bothering to notice his existence as his eyes focused on his phone screen, as always. 

John was truly losing his mind - he was almost beginning to believe that Sherlock's confession was some spiteful experiment somehow, that he did it all to examine how he would react to it all or something awful like that. 

He was ready to pop and he would have said something right there and then if it hadn't have been for the moaning sound that escaped Sherlock's phone. He suddenly didn't find it possible to speak, he could barely find it in him to function. 

And he noticed Sherlock's smirk as he read the text, John's stomach turned, a knot expanding as it prepared it's decend into explosion. 

He looked at the younger man, a sort of look of spite towards him. How dare he do this to him, how dare he play with his emotions and his life as though he was simply the puppet to his extravagant show of a life. 

He shook his head, he needed out. He stood up, not bothering to look at him as he turned, his body flushing with anger. He could punch the man, honestly, he could easily. 

"John?" Sherlock asked, John could feel his eyes finally on him and no matter how much he had waited for him to look at him, it didn't matter much now. 

"I'm going to bed" John spoke through gritted teeth, taking a deep breath as he began his decent. 

"Bed? It's six, John. You don't usually sleep until around ten, after you have dozed in your chair for ten minutes of course" 

"Just shut up, Sherlock" was all he could say, this time leaving the room, allowing his feet to carry him up the stairs to his own room. 

He couldn't deal with this, not now, not ever. 

Sherlock was baffled beyond belief, what was going on here? He watched as John left the room, noting the bitterness in his voice as he did. He sighed, leaning his head back against his chair with a groan, then unlocking his phone re-reading the texts. 

_Hello, Darling. I hope my text tone is still the same as before, is John with you? Oh I can smell the jealousy from here and I'm across the world - Irene x_

_He's staring at me like he wants to rip my head off from my body, he may kill me purely for that simple text message - if so, let it be known you are the sole cause for this mess if I die this evening SH._

That was his last reply before John had stormed from the room. He of course had gone to Irene for advice the day after the whole incident, who had guided him, however, it didn't seem to be of much help at all. 

He typed out another message. 

_Your idea, not so great. He has just exited the room in a very dramatic rage, very angry. I don't think you're as good at this as you lead me to believe. If you have jeopardised my relationship with John, I will personally ensure you are found by this evening and locked away for the remainder of your being. How is Australia by the way? SH._

However, John was currently sat on his bed, his back up against his headboard, muttering obscene words under his breath - attempting not to run down the stairs and knock him right off his chair with a barrel of insults about his stupid, irritating, lovely curly hair. 

He didn't know what to do, he however, did not expect to find himself calling the person he was. Probably not the best idea. 

"John?" 

John sighed "Mary, I'm losing my bloody mind"

"Oh god, what's he done?" 

"Nothing, that's the whole problem! He's done nothing at all, the absolute arrogant arse has not so much as spoke about it since that day. I thought I could wait, I really did, but now I'm really not so sure" 

"Oh, come on babe. You know what he's like, it was probably really hard for him to admit that to you, he's dealing with it all - he'll speak about it when his mind has finally slowed down" She sympathised. 

"Oh, you think? Maybe I did too, that was until his phone just went off" John bitterly spoke. 

"The moan?" She asked. 

"The moan" He nodded.

"That prick. Ah, I'm sure it's nothing, she's a lesbian anyway, isn't she?" 

"Bi-Sexual, I think. I'm not sure, she definitely had a thing for Sherlock though. They're most likely laughing away together about how truly pathetic I am to have believe a word he said"

"You're so over dramatic, John" Mary laughed lightly, John could hear the sea rushing around her and a hint of jealousy brushed over him. "Look, Sherlock Holmes is a prick, I know that, you know that. He's also someone who is in love with you and luckily for him, you happen to feel the same - you know he's a difficult man, understatement I know, but this is all so new to him. You need to be a little more understanding, he's probably struggling with it all. Ever thought that he's waiting for you to speak to him about it? He's probably shitting  himself at the idea of confronting you" 

"You always defend him" He breathed out "even after everything" 

"Says you? The man who would forgive him no matter what he done. He died for two years and you pretended you were angry for a bit and then went off back up his arse again" Mary shot back, John could still note the humour in her voice.

she continued "look John, he may have stolen my future husband from me but deep down I always knew your heart belonged to him. I just blinded myself from the obvious in the hope that maybe you did want me - but, I'm not upset. If you would have said I Do you would have regretted it for the rest of your life and that's not something I want to be a part of" 

"You shouldn't be so understanding" 

"No, but I know you two. And I know what you can become, you're Sherlock Holmes and John Watson and the game really is on. Go down there, apologise for storming out like a prick and tell him what you want. After all this time you finally know how he feels, John. Don't spend another lifetime waiting for something to happen" 

And John nodded, he said his goodbyes and his I love you and he did exactly that. His steps were slower this time as he walked down the stairs, he knew what he was about to place himself into and he knew it could go two ways. But he also knew he needed to do this and it needed to be now. 

He stopped on the landing, peering in through the door to see Sherlock, his phone still in hand although this time he was just staring at it. He admired him, like he always did, he was such a beautiful man, both inside and out and he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be a part of his life. 

He took a deep breath, his fists clenching as he took the first step into the silent room. He looked up at Sherlock who slowly peered up at him, he dropped his phone onto his lap as he moved his hands into the pyramid shape and rested his index fingers on his lips. He was assessing the situation, John knew that. 

John braced himself, he was a soldier after all, he needed to stop pussy footing around him "we need to talk" he spoke firmly. 

"Ah, I assumed much. I was hoping you would explain to me why you stormed out" Sherlock spoke slowly. 

John nodded, walking over to his own seat, he sat, slightly on the edge so he was a little closer to him. He was still nodding, like a lunatic actually, a strange way to prepare himself for this. 

"This time last month, it was you in this situation. It was you who was confused, hurt and bewildered by your own emotions" John began, remembering the key details of Sherlock's face the moment he had admitted it all to him "you know how much that hurt, that's why I'm beginning to wonder why on earth you would leave it at that and allow me to struggle with the knowledge of your feelings for this entire month and you doing nothing about it" 

Sherlock was silent, his hands dropping until they were on his lap, his eyes were slightly frantic. He hadn't expected this. 

"Now, usually, after someone declares their love for someone things are different - you, on the other hand, you big bastard you, have done the exact opposite, in fact, you've only gone back into your old ways. I didn't spend all these years getting to know the real you for you to go right back to our first days, that's not how this works" John spoke firmly, ignoring the confused look across Sherlock's face. 

"- I understand you find this difficult and I know how stressful it is for you, however, I am not just anybody, I am me, _your_ John. And I need you to talk to me before I lose my bloody fucking mind" 

Sherlock let out a sigh, a groan escaping his lips as he let his head fall to his hands and he mumbled "Oh, John. Fuck, I'm sorry" 

"Did you... Did you just swear?" John's head snapped back slightly as he heard the word fall from Sherlock's lips as though it didn't belong there. 

"I confided in Irene, she supposed I wait until you were ready to speak about it, be as cold as I possibly could so you would finally make the first move in all of this - god, I knew she was wrong. Bloody criminals these days, they truly cannot be trusted" He spoke clearly, his head lifting from his hands. 

He sighed, edging in his seat as he held his hands out to grasp onto John's. 

"I'm sorry for how you have felt, I too did feel that way and I would never wish that on another, especially the person I find myself infatuated with" He apologised, sincerely. 

"You're an idiot" John shook his head "honestly, why Irene? She would love to see my jealous, it's like some sort of kink for her. She probably got off on the idea" 

"Yes, well, she is very unique" Sherlock nodded an agreement "I was worried that you had only expressed your feelings because I had, worried in case it was more pity towards me than truthful" 

"Are you... Sherlock, you're the smartest and most intelligent man I have ever met but you are also the most fucking stupid. I have waited to hear those words leave your lips, dreamt of them, of course I wouldn't say it through pity, you daft twat" 

"Oh" was all that left Sherlock's lips "I have to be honest with you, John. I have no idea how relationships work or how any of it works, I need you to lead me in this or it will be an absolute disaster for both of us" 

"Say it again" John demanded, his eyes piercing onto Sherlock's. 

"I said, I have no-" 

"No, Sherlock" John shook his head and Sherlock soon realised what he was asking. 

"Well, yes... I love you, John, very much" 

"Thank fuck for that" John growled. 

Before Sherlock could comprehend the whole situation, he suddenly had John Watson wrapped around his thighs, his fingers laced through his hair and his lips moulding with his own. John's lips were on his and full of hunger, Sherlock could barely keep up with the way his teeth clasped down on his bottom lip or how his tongue darted out to clasp onto his own. All he could do was allow a sweet moan to fall from his own mouth, practically gasping at the way it pushed John into extreme lust.

"You" John began mumbling against Sherlock's lips as his fingers worked the buttons on his freshly ironed shirt "are fucking beautiful"

The words sent a shiver down Sherlock's spine, the words were like music to his ears, a sweet sympathy consisting only of _John_. His John, who loved him, who really loved him. 

And although he was lost in John, he soon came to realise what exactly he was doing. And he panicked. 

"Wait, John, stop" Sherlock scattered out, pulling back from his ever so sweet lips and grasping on his hands before he could release the final button of his shirt. 

John frowned, his eyes concerned. "What's the matter? Oh god, please don't say you're about to change your mind Sherlock" 

"Change my mind? God, no, not at all" Sherlock shook his head, never, he would never change his mind when it came to John Watson "It's just... I love you, I want all of you and everything that comes with it. It's just, this, the physical aspect of the relationship is all very new to me. I just hoped we could take this one step at a time" 

John's eyes softened at that, the smile Sherlock loved so dearly creeping across his now swollen lips. 

"Of course, it's all very over-whelming" John nodded, his hands freeing from Sherlock's as they moved to wrap around his waist, soon he was holding onto him, his head rested on Sherlock's exposed chest and dwelling in the way his arms fit so perfectly around him "how about we take this step by step, we'll stick to the vanilla kissing and cuddling and actually go on a date and then we'll make our way to the other parts" 

"I don't want you to become bored, John. I understand my nerves may become frustrating, especially as you have been sexually active for many years and-" 

"Shut up Sherlock" John said, softer than before. Placing a kiss on his chest "I have already waited years to do just this, I can wait a little longer, I assure you"

"Does this mean we can cuddle on the couch and watch soppy movies like other clichè couples?" Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow as John lifted himself up to look at him.

"If we must" John chuckled "however, you're not picking the movie, your taste is horrendous"

"How dare you, I'll have you know I have a fanastic taste in movies" 

"You're only taste is horror films, where you continue to shout abuse at the victims for being so clueless and judge the murderers for being so careless" John argued, standing to his feet, lacing his fingers through Sherlock's as he attempted to lift him. 

"It's not my fault, they all are _clueless_ and _careless_ " Sherlock defended, allowing John to lift him and walk him over to the sofa. 

"Yes, but how about we watch a nice soppy movie like you suggested and pretend you're not a detective for the evening" John cocked an eyebrow with suggestion as he pulled Sherlock down to sit beside him. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody, won't want to ruin your street cred, would I?" 

"And what movie do you suggest?" Sherlock asked, smiling as John lay down and rested his head on Sherlock's lap. His smile soon faded as John confirmed his worst nightmare. 

"The Notebook" 

"On second thoughts, maybe this relationship is a bad idea" 

"It's a sad one, get ready to cry" John grinned up at him, a look of utter happiness across his face. 

And Sherlock knew he was about to hate every moment of this movie but as long as he had John, nothing seemed miserable. 


End file.
